


Drabbles of Destiel

by orphan_account



Series: Drabbles of Destiel [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-27 06:36:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>These are my first real attempts of fan fiction, most I came up with while i was bored. Because who doesn't make up fan fiction in their head in the middle of math class? Honest opinions are encouraged. I'm new at this so I may need a few pointers. Also feel free to send me prompt ideas, i'm always looking for new ones.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

> These are my first real attempts of fan fiction, most I came up with while i was bored. Because who doesn't make up fan fiction in their head in the middle of math class? Honest opinions are encouraged. I'm new at this so I may need a few pointers. Also feel free to send me prompt ideas, i'm always looking for new ones.

He swore he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. He was a nervous wreck, and felt like turning around and running away. But it was too late; he could feel Dean’s breathe brush against his lips. The smell of mint was lingering in his nose. Dean was so close, it was quit nerve-racking.  At this distance he could see the specks of brown in his eyes, which were glazed over with want and desire. “Cas…” was the soft mumble that woke him from his daze just before Dean planted a soft kiss upon his lips. There was a spark of electricity that seemed never ending, that crossed into his body. The kiss was simple, yet held so much power, it was quite scary.  It started as just a simple kiss, well as simple as _kissing a Winchester_ could be, that soon transformed into something more.

Before he realized, Castiel was wrapping his arms around Deans’ neck while slipping his fingers into his hair, and opening his mouth a little bit wider, deepening the kiss. Dean responded immediately by wrapping his arms around the angel’s waist, and pulling him closer. Slowly, but surely Castiel built up enough confidence to drag his tongue along the hunter’s lower lip, asking for permission. The hunter obliged and opened his mouth wide enough to let his own tongue slip past his lips and graze the angel’s. The sensation of exploring another person’s mouth was still new to the angel, but he was always a quick learner. Dean soon started to let all of his want and desire fuel into the kiss, as he began to pull Castiel further into him, and dominate the kiss. The sudden movement and pressure was enough to let a rather loud moan escape from the angel’s lips, and a small tug in the hunter’s hair. This earned the angel a groan from the hunter, and some fingers slipping under the hems of his shirt. Everything began to fade away, as the kiss accelerated, more places than their mouths were being explored, and more moans were escaping their lips than being muffled.

Too soon for his liking, the kiss broke as they panted for air. Lips swollen, and breathe shallow, all Castiel could do was rest his head against Dean’s shoulder and smile shyly. Deans’ hands were still under his shirt, rubbing small circles on the angel’s side. More than a few thoughts were buzzing around the angel’s head. But all he could do was pay attention to whose arms he was in.

Those arms belong to Dean Winchester.

Those arms belong to Dean Winchester, the hunter.

Those arms belong to Dean Winchester, _his_ hunter.


	2. 2 a.m.

He keeps tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable. Unable to sleep. It’s been like this for months now, and it seems to be getting worse. He’s used to being on the road, all he’s ever known really. He can’t seem to stay still, no matter how bad he wants to. Frustrated, he sits up in the dingy little motel bed. He slumps over, holding his head in his hands. All he wants to do is sleep; it’s a simple task, really. He looks to the clock sitting on the bed side table. The dull red numbers illuminate 1:45 a.m. He huffs, and lies back down. The man next to him stirs and turns over. His face is illuminated by the moonlight that is flooding into the room. He can see that Cas is awake now, and he notices how much brighter his eyes look. Dean scoots in a little bit closer to Cas until he can rest his chin to top of Cas’ head, and Cas adjusts so his head is resting on Dean’s chest. Cas is a lot more comfortable than those stupid pillows anyway. But sadly, it isn't enough to coax Dean into sleeping. Cas snakes an arm around Dean’s waist, and it just lays there. Soon enough, Cas absently starts tracing patterns on the soft skin under Dean’s shirt with his fingertips. Dean’s content as ever, but he still can’t seem to fall asleep. Dean looks at the clock again, now it’s saying 1:55 a.m. Dean sighs again, he’s just so fed up that he can’t seem to get his four hours. And he desperately needs them.  
“Dean?” Cas mumbles, just barely audible.  
“Yeah?” Dean replies quietly, looking down at Cas.  
“Go to sleep.” Cas says softly, shifting just enough so he can plant a gentle but loving kiss on Dean’s lips. Dean looks at the clock one last time; it reads 2:00 a.m.  
“I love you.” Dean states simply, closing his eyes, suddenly feeling tired.  
“I love you too.” Cas responds, wiggling back in the position they were in before.


End file.
